It's a warm day.

It's a warm day, the sun is light on my skin. Warm, sunny, windy. There are a few clouds in the light blue sky, speckled around, not like one of those picture perfect days. No, Those kind of days are days you see in a photo. This is the kind of day you can feel.

The bricks are warm too. Warm enough to heat the skin, but not enough to burn. I sit down, on the edge of them, with the lawn at my feet. It isn't healthy lawn. There's a large patch, where we pee at night. It's very relaxing to do, I must admit. Makes you feel in touch with nature, standing there, peeing into the wind. It isn't a healthy lawn.

Bazz walks up, slowly, giving me a cursory glance. She's an expert at relaxing, one of the pro's of the household. She stops at my feet, and falls to the ground with the grace of a hippo. A satisfied sigh exits her lungs as she thuds down, and closes her eyes to the sun. She knows how it's done - I think to myself. I follow her example.

I lie back against the bricks behind me. They're hotter than the others. They burn for a second, but then I adjust, and it's a nice warmth. The wind blows against my side, it's cool, cold even. A delicious contrast to the heat of the bricks. "It's like eating a bowl full of chaff"

- Says mum. I smile as I'm woken from my stupor. "I think it was the natural yoghurt, I might try a different muesli next time". I encourage her along that course of action. She is sitting on a bench behind me, staring down at me. "It's your birthday soon", I nod in agreeance. "Anything special you want?" I tell her there isn't. It's the truth. Or at least, what I want isn't so easily gotten. Besides, I am happy in this moment. Content. "Well, tell me if anything comes to your mind". I assure her I will, as she walks back into the house, the wooden door creaking as the wind slams it shut behind her. I lie there, warming.

There's a wasp above me, going about it's daily duties. I watch it float along the wooden beams of the veranda, poking its head into small holes in the wood. It doesn't fear me, and I don't fear it. But it looks happy, in its relaxed wandering. Maybe it has the day off. Maybe I'm just a tad Euphoric at the moment. I like him, he seems content too. Hello wasp, I mouth. Not wanting to speak. Words would ruin the tranquility. It answers by crawling into a little hole, and then crawling out again. Good answer, I think. You know your stuff.

There's a little bird, flying vainly into the wind up in the sky. It's windy up there, little bird, be careful. But the warning isn't necessary. It knows exactly what it's doing.

A fly lands on my toe. The corners of my mouth curl into a smile. It wouldn't be Australia without you, little fly. It agrees. And tickles my toe hairs, just like it should. I raise my foot in accordance with custom, and drop it back down to the ground, dislodging the fly. I can tell this fly has been around, it knows how things go. It settles back down onto my foot, right where it left off. I smile, and raise my foot again.

Bazz moves. She stands up lazily and moves over to a more rough patch of grass. I know what's coming, and I sit up to watch it. It's a brilliant show, no matter how many times you've seen it. She looks down at the grass happily, she's been looking forward to this. Flop, down onto the new patch. But not with the intention of relaxing this time.

She stretches out, then flips up onto her back. It took her a long time to learn how to lie like that. But she loves it now. Then starts the show. She starts to sway back and forth, scratching her back on the grass. Slowly at first, but it gets faster quickly. She can't help but growl with pleasure. GROARRAAARROOAOAOOAR, she says, as she scratches. At her best, she can go for a few minutes. Today, she only lasts for about 20 seconds before she's done. She bends her head around and looks at me. I smile back at her. She gets up and sneezes, satisfied.

I can't hold her attention forever though. But she gives me time to pat her as she walks past me, and into the house. Pushing the door open like we tell her not to. She's a pro.

I wriggle my back, stretching out the brick marks that are undoubtadly there. It's a nice itch to scratch. I look around myself, stretch again, and stand up. Up in the sky are a few clouds, speckled around, the sun is light on my skin. It's a warm day.